Kagerou Days
by North of the North
Summary: "I think there's a demon in my house, Alfie. I think it's trying to take over my mind. Can you help me?" "It's too late for that. There will be no help coming for you." RusCan and Russia is not the demon.
1. Chapter 1

The voices in my head started a few weeks ago. It was just after I had gotten home from a world meeting in fact.

Kumajiro, my pet polar bear-yes it's illegal to keep a polar bear as a pet but, I'm a nation so the rules were bent a little for me. Anyway, Kumajiro was still away at a human friend's house for the duration of the meeting. He had misbehaved badly around the house-I'll need to get new sheets soon; as well, he hadn't wanted to come to the world meeting with me, prompting the demolishment of my nice sheets. He could have just asked to stay behind. But nooo. The minute I said that there was a meeting coming up he ran off to my room and started chewing on the sheets. The little bugger. Saying he was hungry. Yeah right. Polar bears don't naturally feel the urge to eat sheets, they eat seals. Seals not sheets. He totally did it on purpose. He can be a twerp sometimes.

So, he was gone and no one else was supposed to be in the house. But, that was not the case this time.

That entire evening it had felt as if there was someone in the house with me, watching me, seeing everything that I did. It was too scary for me, night had already fallen outside and feeling somebody watching me, feeling that prickle on the back of your neck followed by chills down your spine just freaked me out. I'd watched too many movies with my brother I guess. There's a reason people are scared by those movies, Alfred included, feeling someone watching you, feeling that cold feeling, the chills and the hyper awareness are all scary. I didn't like it.

So, I went straight to bed, I didn't even bother with having supper that night. Which was weird for me because I never miss a meal. But exceptions need to be made sometimes. I just stayed in bed and didn't sleep; I was watching the door. I was waiting for it to soundlessly open in the night, for something to come slinking in. I was waiting for a shadow to slip past my door jamb so that I would feel justified for my terror. But, I didn't get to see anything that night, nor did I get to have any sleep then either. I was too scared. Always too scared to sleep or to leave. Something might hurt me. I was too scared of being hurt.

And I stayed scared over the next few weeks until now. Because every day I felt like someone was watching me, even though I never saw them.

I asked Claire, the human friend I'd left Kumajiro with, to keep Kumajiro for a while longer. I think I messed up with saying his name again though because she sounded a bit confused when she said goodbye. I really shouldn't have given him such a hard name. But, I wanted to impress Alfred with it, because he was Kiku's friend at the time. He didn't even notice I had changed his name though. I don't think Kumajiro noticed either. He keeps asking "who?" I can't decide if he's wondering who I am or who the name I keep calling him by is for. He doesn't get it and neither do I really. I don't get why I changed his name. It was fine before. Whatever. It's done and over with, maybe I'll ask Kumajiro if he wants to change his name when he comes back. If I ever feel safe enough to bring my only friend back to this place.

So, after I called Claire I stayed in my house as much as I could, I barely even went out for groceries anymore. The feeling of being watched always got worse when I went outside and as crazy as it sounds it felt more malignant when I went out. Like I was in danger. As if the unknown onlooker was angry at me for daring to take a single step outside while it was watching me.

I made excuses and didn't go to any more meetings. I felt bad about that, it was my responsibility to go to them. But, nothing was ever done during those meetings anyway. No one had ever seemed to me at the meetings before anyways. Not even Papa, Dad, or even Alfred. No one noticed me there. And so, it was with no surprise to myself that no one had noticed me not at the meetings either. That was fine with me though. I didn't and still don't mind. It meant that no one questioned why I didn't come to the meetings anymore. And it was fine with the voice in my head too.

He liked it a lot actually. My forget-ability. It was perfect for him. It was wonderful. To it, my forget-ability meant my complete absence from all parts of my normal life wouldn't be noticed at all. Yes, my powers of invisibility was handy for the both of them. Very handy. My power really was a double-edged sword. My invisibility meant that I wouldn't worry any of my family and friends needlessly. Like they would actually worry about me. Why should they? No, that was rude to think of them, very rude, they were much better than that. They just didn't have to worry about me, I could and still can take care of myself. They didn't have to worry, that's why they never did. They cared for me. I was sure of it.

My powers meant I wouldn't worry them, but it would also mean the end of me too.

What are you if no one can remember you?

What are you if you are gone and no one cares?

Does this voice intend to kill me without my family ever knowing? I don't know. I'm scared. I want Alfred to come save me. But, he never was my hero. He never was. I don't have a hero to save me from the voice I keep hearing.


	2. Chapter 2

Like I said before I started rambling on and on about everything else, after the feeling of being watched came to me, that was when the voice started to speak to me in my head. That was three weeks ago, I think. I can't really remember for sure what time it started. I didn't pay any attention to the passing of days after that. I counted them only by the number of times I collapsed from exhaustion into sleep. I didn't want to sleep by choice. I was too scared. I lay awake until I couldn't anymore. So, those were what I counted. Those were my days.

However, at first it wasn't really a **voice **in my head. It was the sound of laughter echoing all around me everywhere I went at all times of the day. I heard it at all hours, it went on all the time, and it never stopped.

It was like someone was chuckling at the sight of me spinning around looking completely scared of it being there. I have to say though that I had a right to look scared. I was scared. It was a very scary kind of chuckle. A deep one that seemed to come from every direction possible at once, it echoed around me becoming scarier by the second. That's what scared me. That deep chuckling sound was one where I couldn't figure out where it came from. It was just like the feeling of being watched in that aspect.

I felt completely helpless. Whatever was happening to me I couldn't control, and it scared me. I didn't know what to do. So, I let it continue. I didn't do anything. I stayed helpless and never sought help. I always have been stupid in that way I guess. I never try and get help for myself. That had always been my way. So, this time I didn't either. And no help came for me.

* * *

The next two chapters are much longer than this, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Every night since I started hearing that dark chuckle I have been waking up somewhere else in the house than where I fell asleep, tired, like I was sleep walking. But I never sleep walk, I never did before this all started, and every morning the laughter was always noticeably a little louder.

It was after the laughter that the real voice started. This time, it didn't echo like the laughter had. But, I still couldn't tell where it came from. It was like the voice was speaking directly to my mind. The worst part was that it sounded so familiar. My only comfort was that I could tell it wasn't my own voice, the one that says my thoughts that was doing this. It was definitely someone else, that much I knew at some point. I still had no idea where to look for the person that was still watching me. I couldn't figure it out.

The voice was cordial enough to me; of course, it always seemed to be mocking me. Making fun of everything that I did, of how scared I was. But, it was still polite. Its first words to me were "Hello little Mathew. Are you feeling well?" after all. Now wasn't that nice? The words had seemed sarcastic, but he'd still said them so, points to him for the niceties.

My health were definitely going down because of all this though. I'd begun to starve myself afraid to ever leave my room. Where I felt safest. I was starting to become very skinny. I could feel my ribs. If I could carry myself, I probably wouldn't have weighed much. At least it made it easier to walk quickly around the house when I felt I really needed to and was brave enough. I only ever left my room when I had the courage to face the voice being crueler to me. I never had been very brave though, unfortunately. I didn't leave the room much. I sometimes measured the time by my appearance in the mirror, another rib showing a bit more clearly, it must have been at least another day then was my new time keeping method.

But, at least the words the voice said were nice, sometimes, if you didn't listen to the tone they were spoken in. And most of the words meanings they all really meant underneath what was being said out loud wasn't very nice either.

That was it for me though, I was convinced I was finally completely crazy. An utter looney. Knowing that voice sounded familiar. I thought I needed to be checked into the nearest mental facility, and left there forever. I knew I couldn't deal with this anymore. I had to stop it. Halt whatever this was in its tracks and freeze it to the rails. Make it so that it couldn't do anymore to me, and wouldn't be able to hurt me again.

I'd been lying on my bed then. There was a razor by my bedside. I'd been thinking of killing myself. Which was stupid. Nations couldn't die. Their body's hearts wouldn't beat, they wouldn't breathe for a while, and they couldn't remember what happened. But, they never stayed dead, they always came back. Killing himself would have just been a not-quite-so "permanent fix to a temporary problem". In my case it was the opposite. It would have been a temporary fix to what seemed to be a permanent problem. Nations live forever. If I had thought this up, which was likely, it would stay with me, forever. I couldn't live with that. I needed to do something else.

I changed my thoughts to killing the person behind the laughter, behind the voice, instead.

'Kill the laughter, kill the voice. This would all be by my own choice.' I sang inside my head as I'd reached across my bedside table, grabbing my small cellphone and snagging the razor as I went.

"You don't want to do that Mathew, other people around will just make it worse."

Why did the voice always have to sound like it was trying to help him? It made it seem worse.

"You'll be in so much pain. Screaming out in agony. I'll laugh at the sight, I want to right now. Oh wait I just thought of something. If you're planning on using the razor on yourself, then go ahead. Be my guest. Make my job so much easier. Call your family, tell them you love them oh so much, I don't know why that would be true. Maybe it would make you feel a bit better to say it? Then kill yourself. Do it, I dare you. You wouldn't turn that down, now would you? You've never gone against someone's wishes before. Why start now?"

I didn't even need to look up to know that there would be no one there. The voice was in my head. But, it couldn't read my thoughts. It was just guessing; trying to figure out what I was going to do by that. It wouldn't work. Guessing does nothing. Only the answer is ever right.

"I can't die, whoever you are. I'm a Nation. We always heal after we die. We never just stay dead. That's impossible. It can't happen." I said as I punched in the final numbers of my brother's cell phone and brought it up to my ear waiting for the ringing to begin and end with my brother there to help me.

The voice chuckled then said, "Ah, but don't you wish that that wasn't the case? Don't you want to die? Haven't you always wanted to die? You pathetic ghost of a Nation. Ghost among Nations. It fits you, doesn't it? I don't know how you can still stand yourself. You're weak Mathew. So so weak."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello, this is Alfred here. What would you like to say to the hero?" Alfred's voice could be heard from the phone after the 3rd ring had sounded out and he'd picked up just as Mathew was starting to lose hope of help coming from him.

'Thank God. He's there.'

"Alfred!" Mathew could almost weep with relief. That was the longest wait of his life. The voice had continued to talk while he waited. More words that bounced around in his mind. He was useless. Weak. A coward. He should just die. Then the words had changed. It wasn't waiting for him to commit suicide anymore. The voice had begun to make threats when it saw that Mathew was serious about continuing to live. It seriously wanted him to die.

"Yeah, who is this? Do I know you?" Alfred questioned.

"Yes, this is Mathew, your brother. Alfred I need you here right now, at my house, please." Mathew begged into the phone while glancing up and around his room. Was it just him, or was the room getting chillier. He was starting to freeze with goose bumps breaking out on his skin even though he was wearing a long sleeved shirt.

"Mattie? Are you okay bro? You don't sound so good. Are you sick or something? I can bring some medicine, or something, if you like. And hey, why haven't you been to the past few world meetings? You missed out on a lot of funny times. Eyebrows can be so fun to piss off." Alfred's voice was joking and playful; Mathew's was not when he replied.

"Alfred, this is serious. I need you here right now, in my house, as soon as you can. You have to come. I think something's trying to kill me."

"What are you talking about Mathew? Are you in danger right now? Answer me Mathew."

"Alfred, just hold on for a moment please."

"No! Don't put down the phone. Mathew, don't."

Mathew had already lowered the phone to his lap. The voice had begun to speak again. The tone it used was no longer mocking, now it sounded angry. Very angry.

"You're being a very bad boy Mathew. You're not doing what I wanted you to. Now I'll have to take measures of my own from now on. You will not be ruining any of my plans. I won't let you."

Mathew listened to the voice wide eyed and silent in its wake. Alfred's voice could be heard crystal clear from his phone in the quiet of the room after the voice was finished speaking.

"Mathew, who is that? Why are they in your home? Is that why you're in danger? Just hold on Mattie, be brave, I'm coming to save you."

Mathew never got to hear that last part though. His hearing and sight was beginning to dim and become muffled. 'What is happening?' Mathew brought his phone back up to his ear and began to talk into it urgently, fearing that Alfred wouldn't know what was going on, or how to save him. And because he couldn't hear anymore he was afraid that Alfred wouldn't be coming to help him.

"I'm scared Alfie, so scared. I think there's a demon in my house." Mathew remembered his many sleep walking antics. He knew he hadn't been the one to move his body. He didn't sleepwalk. That led to only one option. "At night, I think it takes over my mind and makes me do things. I'm scared Alfred. What if it takes over my body completely? What if it takes over my mind? Alfred help me. Alfred, help me please."

"It's too late little one. You were too slow to call for help. I've already cut your mind off from the rest of the world. You're trapped here, in your mind, in this world I've made just for you in here. No one can hear you now. No one can hear you scream."

"Alfred," He was crying now, hoping that his words could still reach him. He was desperate for it. "Please help me. I'm begging you, Alfred. Please save me from the monster."

"You're just wasting your breath, little Mathew, and you know it."


	5. Chapter 5

Ivan/Russia's POV

*Flashback*

Today was a momentous day on Russia's calendar. Today was the day that General Winter had told him he wanted to talk to him on. He'd marked it off in his day planner immediately. He had to. General Winter was like that. Even Russia couldn't very well disobey him.

So, that day he'd walked outside and was engulfed in a snow storm that had swirled down into being around him out of nowhere. This was one of those times he was glad he always dressed in his warm winter clothes. He would've frozen and died of hypothermia in this nearly instantaneously if he hadn't.

The winter storm deposited him in a clearing of boreal forest trees a few metres away from where his house was.

'Why does he always feel the need to do these kinds of things? We could have just talked normally in front of my house.'

General Winter stood there a few feet away from him on the other side of the open space free from any crowding trees vying for space in a place wide enough for them all. Too bad none of them realized that; but, then again, they are only trees. They can't be aware of their own actions. Not like the people who plant them can.

It was somewhat funny that General Winter never truly appeared to him beneath any trees. Maybe he didn't like them? That would certainly explain why he felt the need to bury them under snow every year.

Those thoughts mattered not at the moment though, because General Winter had asked him a question.

"What has been on your mind, small one that your thoughts have been so distracted? You've even paid little attention to my storms this past while. has something been bothering you? Do you want me to give them a slow death with my touch?"

"There is no need to freeze anyone, General Winter. My scattered thoughts are perfectly normal. I am just...I just have a small crush at the moment. That's why I've been less aware of what's happening around me lately." Ivan replied.

"A crush? What need do you have for such meaningless, stupid things like that? You are not a weak person anymore, Ivan. Who is it that has stolen your strength? I shall take care of them for you so that you can be happy and strong again."

"There is no need to hurt him. He is one dear to your heart as well, you wouldn't want to if I told you the name. Having these thoughts may seem like I am weak, or conflicted, General Winter, but all it means is that I am learning and becoming better, and the person who I have a crush on will make me be better."

The wind howling about them bringing snow across Ivan's face to clot together on his eyelashes was his only reply for a few minutes.

"Anything to become stronger I shall help you do." General Winter finally replied. "Tell me more about this and I will help you on your path, as I have always done in some way in the past."

"I will gauge your reaction to what I tell you before I let you know his name. Before that, I will just try to make sense of what I've felt."

"You haven't felt anything for the longest time though, you've told me that."

"I know, and that is how it makes me stronger. Only he can make me feel like this, that is why I will become better. He will help me."

"Continue. Let me hear how exactly this person will be a boon to you, and how I can too contribute, or see if I instead will get bored of your story and wreck havoc elsewhere."

"This will interest you, do not worry about that."

"Before you start on your thoughts, which I listen to all the time and have no real interest in besides why I can't in the past while, tell me about this male. Why does he cause this?"

"He is perfect to me. His beautiful golden curls and his sweet smile. I want it."

General Winter chuckled. "You may just get it then." He said each word spoken deliberately and slow. He wanted Russia to understand him, he always had. But, then again, he also loved to make a game of having Russia guess what he meant despite that.

" Hmm? What do you mean?" And Russia always obliged him in his little game.

" I know who you are talking about."

"I haven't mentioned his name."

"You haven't needed to. I know who it is, and I know what to do. Goodbye, Russia."

He was gone, and the snow storm was gone with him. Russia, however, was displeased at his exit.

"If you're going to whisk me out to wherever you want to, then you should have brought me back." He grumbled as he started to trudge back through the snow.

"I doubt you actually know that it is Canada." He muttered to himself.

Beneath one of the trees Russia believed General Winter would never go under a figure with his face hidden by nothing but its features blurred and indistinct still smirked. "Ah, but now I do."

*Present time*

"I'm so sorry, Canada. You being here. All this pain. It is all my fault. I am so, so sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

Ivan's POV

"I can't sleep. I can't sleep..."

Mathew was muttering in his sleep again. Ivan held him closer. He'd gone over to the side of Mathew's bed when Mathew had started crying into his pillow. This nightmare game was taking a toll on both of them now. Actually, it had been since the beginning. It was just now that it was all that he could think about.

This was the tenth year since Mathew and Ivan had found themselves in this world repeating the same day over and over again, with Mathew dying every single time. Even when Ivan tried to stop the same deaths from happening, Mathew still died. They would both feel a chill go down their spines, and somehow, someway, Mathew would die every time.

Ivan looked at Mathew closer, wondering about how uneven his breaths were, and found he was awake. It seemed they were both plagued by the same tiredness with no rest to come.

Both of them were too caught up by the question of, how will I/Mathew die tomorrow if we do sleep?

Mathew's POV

Mathew had a second thought after that, as he'd had every night. Will it hurt? He knew it would though. There was no reason to ask that question. He still did every night anyways.

Ivan's POV

Ivan, however, was struck with the thought, after he asked his nightly question, that he no longer enjoyed seeing other people's pain, or at the very least, not Mathew's. He used to laugh when other's got hurt. Now he cries whenever Mathew stops breathing.

'This has gone on too long, and too far, General Winter. Mathew no longer enjoys the snow. And he hates the cold you bring him now. Please stop this, soon.'

Ivan decided then that, instead of chasing after Mathew while he was being possessed to go to places where he'll be killed and unable to remember all the times he'd been killed, he would instead try to find General Winter and talk to him. It wasn't like he could stop Mathew from dying anyways. It always happened, and unless he stopped the cycle, it would always continue to happen. Besides, he'd only tried to find General Winter to make him stop this a few times, whereas he'd seen Mathew die countless times. A change of plan would also give him a change of sights. If he tried to find General Winter again, he wouldn't have to see Mathew die, at least just for tomorrow.

Mathew wouldn't miss him not being there too much, after all, if he could slip away properly. Mathew only remembered everything that had happened after he died and they were teleported back to this house where the doors were locked until morning and windows appeared around the place only then too. In the mornings, until Mathew died, he remembered nothing. He was like a doll then. All he knew in the mornings was that Ivan was his "friend" and they were supposed to spend time together that day.

It was a pitiful existence.

Ivan had chickened out of going to find General Winter when Mathew had turned to him and asked if they could spend the day with each other when he woke up. Four hours later he had died. Drowning this time. Ivan hadn't gotten there in time, just like always.  
So, they were back in bed again, the time the same as yesterday. Ivan was the only one awake right now and he knew that as soon as Mathew woke up, he wouldn't remember a thing that had happened over the past ten years. Ivan could never warn him about it and, of course, they were nations so they didn't even have aging bodies that could have possibly triggered Mathew's memories either.

Ivan couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Mathew wouldn't remember that he had died every single day over the past ten years. On one hand, if Mathew remembered, he probably would be able to avoid a few more of the deaths that Ivan couldn't steer him away from. But on the other hand, the few hours each day where Mathew couldn't remember were the only times he was happy. At all other times he walked about the house like a wraith and nothing could cheer him up.

Mathew looked so peaceful lying in his bed. It made Ivan ashamed that he couldn't just keep him that way.

'Maybe it would be best just to smother him right here. I wouldn't have to watch him die later if I did that after all.'

Then Mathew shifted and woke up. Ivan glanced at the clock. It was the same time as when Mathew woke up yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and Ivan's thoughts were banished yet again as Mathew moved out of bed, flashed him a smile, and went downstairs to make breakfast.

It was time to play their little game now. General Winter with his ten years worth of days versus Ivan at zero days wherein he had saved Mathew from this cruel fate.  
Ivan moved downstairs to the kitchen table and sighed when he sat down. Mathew's cheerful, absent-minded expression didn't change.

"Would you like to go to the park again today?" Ivan asked him, and got a happy bob of the head in response.

Mathew had only died there seventy-six times after all. There might even be a way around it this time.

'Yeah, right. Just keep fooling yourself there, Ivan. You're turning in circles. You don't know where to go so you're turning to the same solution each time. If something doesn't work out the first time, you say alright, like you've been doing, but if something goes wrong the second time you do it, alarm bells should go off, and if it doesn't work out the third time you should know it doesn't work out and decide to never do it again. Why are you so stupid? You used to be smarter than this.'

Fantastic. My inner voice is starting to sound a whole lot like General Winter now. It's been doing that more and more often lately.


	7. Ring Around the Rosie

Kagerou Days

Chapter 7

Near the start of what Ivan estimates to be their twentieth year in this place, Mathew is on to yet another death.

Cold and alone, Mathew freezes to death when he is snatched and stuffed into a freezer where he finds that not only is the cold unbearable, but in such an enclosed space as this, he would soon run out of breath. Too bad he didn't remember anything useful about how to get out of a locked freezer. He had already tried everything he could think of to do, but nothing worked. And so, he stops screaming and struggling, realizing that he is wasting the little bit of oxygen in the freezer with him and that no matter how hard he pushes, he can't get the locked and bolted freezer open by himself.

And then, Mathew shocked himself with another realization, he would die. In here, he was going to die.

Unknowing of how he had died before, or of a certain tall Russian male halfway across the city still frantically searching for him.

This time it had been a knife wound. Ivan couldn't even remember how it had happened, but suddenly there he was, having to hold Mathew's guts together as the cut across his abdomen bled and spilled...everything everywhere.

He was crying, and Mathew was sobbing. Though with Mathew, it was likely from the pain.

Worst of all?

Mathew's voice was weak. Horribly and terribly weak, and wobbling with pain, with bloody spittle adorning his lips as he tried to say something to him. Ivan couldn't hear what it was, Mathew was having too much trouble breathing for him too, plus he couldn't possibly hear much over the roaring in his ears besides how awfully weak Mathew sounded.

Ivan knew deep down in his prone-to-falling-out heart that Mathew was going to die soon, again. Ivan wanted to punch something. Why couldn't he do anything to stop this? He hated this life, this place, and every single thing about it. He was completely powerless here. His strength meant nothing here. It was a horrible feeling, especially one to have right there when he actually had someone that he NEEDED to protect, and couldn't. So, Ivan gritted his teeth, held Mathew's hand, and whispered empty assurances that it was all right, Mathew, he would be just fine, just concentrate on my voice Mathew, that's it, you're going to live, Mathew...

*******A new day***********

His bone was sticking out. The rest of his body was in shambles, so Ivan focused on the red flecked bone that was in front of him. It was all that stopped him from vomiting. He'd failed, again.

No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like they were both fated to stay in this world forevermore.

He couldn't even remember how long they had been here. At one point he had kept tracked, but it just kept going on and on and on. By his best estimate, he'd have to say that adding up all the days that had been looped back, that they had been here for, at the very least, three decades. And Mathew had died so many times and in so many ways since this all started. Ivan hadn't even thought some of them to be possible before this.

Even at the start, Ivan had known he liked Mathew, and he honestly wished he could have died himself at least a few times too...just so that he wouldn't have to feel like he was personally letting Mathew down at each day's end when he shook in pain and breathed his last, again and again.

********Another day***********

Even with his companion looming above him, Mathew still took comfort in Ivan's solidarity and presence. They were alone together in this world, after all, with no one else to turn to.

At the same time, Ivan winced. That must have been Mathew's shoulder. Mathew yelping and clutching at his left shoulder just solidified that opinion. Well, at least that was something that he could help with. All he would have to do would be to pop the joint back in, and wipe the blood away from Mathew's mouth as he coughed. One of his broken ribs must have pierced one of his lungs.

At least this death would be relatively quick.

Ivan stopped and considered the boy at his feet. Would it make Mathew feel better if he popped the shoulder back in or should he just wait until he died? Considering the deathly pallor to his skin and the injuries he had...it wasn't like Mathew would be alive for much longer anyway...

No, fixing the shoulder would just cause him more pain. Ivan sighed and resigned himself to kneeling down, gathering his Mathew up and placing him on his lap to wait for his death.

Noticing a tear, Ivan hushed the sobbing man, saying lies, yet again, like how it was all right and he was here and please stop crying. I'm sorry.

*******And another day*******

This time around, Mathew was shot through the chest. As if to punish Ivan, this time something unexpected happens and, in that moment before he dies, Mathew remembers their past in this world and looks so unbelievably sad and silent as he lies bleeding out with Ivan's shirt stuffed into the holes across his chest that Ivan hurries to finish him off with his knife instead of waiting for him to die like he normally does. He doesn't even care that hurrying Mathew's death will bring the looped day back to its start faster-that expression in Mathew's eyes, it was horrible!

Then the day looped and Ivan was back in bed and so was Mathew and Mathew was staring straight ahead stonily.

"That was the first time you killed me. Just you." Mathew said to the wall. And Ivan stayed silent. What could he say to that anyway?

Above them, the clock ticked away on the wall. For Ivan, it seemed to grow louder as time went on and the silence from Mathew appeared deafening.

"But I forgive you, Ivan. You may not say anything, but I know you did it to help me. That's all you've done since we got here. I-I, well, thank you."

Ivan didn't know whether to turn around and face him or not, so he didn't.

Eventually, Mathew fell asleep, and only then did Ivan say what he'd wanted to with a shuddering breath, his pulse raising faster with each word.

"I love you, Matvey."

He'd never thought he'd ever have the courage to confess. So he continued.

"Of course I've looked out for you. I hope I only ever have your best interests at heart. I want you safe. I want you happy. I-I just don't know if that can be done with me..."

And in that hushed stillness of their shared room, Ivan set to thinking. And so missed the faltering in Mathew's breath that showed he'd never fallen asleep in the first place.

They could exist here. But just barely.

Mathew was fine, relatively speaking. His memory was erased each day. He didn't have to live with their full reality for long; but Ivan, he did. And it was slowly whittling away his sanity. He couldn't live like this, and it was obvious that Mathew couldn't either! He was being killed every day. They had to leave. Had to. And yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to escape. He'd failed at that today too. Attempting to escape with Mathew, and stopping him from being killed. It never worked. Even when just one was attempted.

But so many things had been tried, and nothing ever worked. Ivan just didn't know what to do anymore. Would he ever be able to save Mathew and himself from this situation? Could they ever get out? Why was the General even doing this?

Ivan couldn't help feeling betrayed. When the General had shown up at his doorstep to tell him he had a plan to get him together with Canada, he had been hopeful. The General had always been his only Protector. Then he had brought him here and each day he felt his hopes of a future with the pretty blond go from a pile of winter fuel for the fireplace to a toothpick fit for a toddler.

What? Was his hope of love so laughable to the General that he simply felt forced to put Ivan in this nightmare? That he **had** to make Russia watch Canada be killed endlessly? Show him it was impossible? Was the General trying to say that if the two ever did get together, then this is what Ivan would do to him? Not watch, but kill, and do it on purpose?

And he had likely brought the real Canada here too, instead of a fake replica, to make Canada know this truth too. To make the beautiful and similarly violet eyed angel know that the last thing he would ever see would be another pair of purple eyes watching him as he died as a direct result of Russia's meddling from talking to the General. It certainly seemed like the General's MO to use psychological torture to get his way.

But even figuring that out, Ivan was still left with no answer on how to get out of this world.

What could he possibly do to stop this?

_'Find the General.'_

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